Birdemic
by The USS Ficcelsior
Summary: Those YRP gals sure got themselves riled up in a real featherduster this time.


" _Ready for another lesson?"_

\- Ben Kingsley, _Iron Man 3_

* * *

Yuna, Rikku, and Paine landed on the _Filthy Seacow_ knowing there was no way they could lose. The cutthroat air pirate thugs who called this ship their home had no idea the blazing heroines were hot on their trail. The intel said these pirates had been terrorizing the nearby islands in an endless search for new booty. Shinra had given the team the full scoop on all of the ship's weak points and where the security detail was the thinnest once they broke in.

"We're going to wipe floor with these losers!" Rikku said gleefully, her scarf flailing behind her as she climbed across the rusted steel hull of the outdated airship. The sky streamed past her at mach speeds.

"They won't even know what hit them," Paine agreed. She cracked her knuckles and wrenched her sword through a loose hatch.

"Ready girls?" Yuna said confidently. "Let's get 'em!"

She loaded her dual pistols and led her team toward certain victory.

After the Gullwings had been swiftly and humiliatingly defeated, they instantly became the assets of a mysterious group of high-tech profiteers called the Avians. The _Filthy Seacow_ was only a ruse for a complex society of humans and Al Bheds whose entire existence revolved around systematically turning Yuna and her partners into their tools. The gang had three separate specialized crews who had been secretly and extensively educated in the art of maintaining each Gullwing. Living spaces, dietary habits, personality traits, and any number of unique anatomical or biological characteristics were accounted for even before the three specimens had been secured.

They were never acknowledged by name once they were brought into captivity. From the moment they were taken down into the impeccably sterile and highly equipped cargo hold of the _Seacow_ , they were addressed only as Blue Jay, Canary, and Crow. Their minds were plucked clean of their Sphere Hunter identities while their bodies were groomed with invasive attention to detail. Their Dresspheres required only slight modifications (but with extensive Grid-hacking involved), adding a new Garment configuration for each user.

The Nightingale Garment was a simple but effective ensemble consisting of a small white gown trimmed with individual colors for each Gullwing—Blue for Blue Jay, yellow for Canary, and black for Crow. Loose-fitting skirts allowed for maximum mobility, while a low-cut neckline and a window around the navel left plenty of breathing room. It had an extremely light feel and came with none of the hassle of armor, shoes, or any sort of underwear.

The effects of wearing these Garments were they granted no special abilities whatsoever and reduced the wearers to their natural strength, agility, and intelligence. The stat bonuses included a stylish medical fashion sense and easier access for their Avian captors.

At first they were expected to keep their Garment Grids set to Nightingale the entire time they were on the ship. As constant experimentation became a regular part of their lives and they gained the Avians' trust as reliable Sphere Hunter pigeons, they were allowed to don their more tactical Dresspheres again. Now they chose their own forms at their leisure. They only needed to equip the Nightingale Garments during the most intensive inspections, but they became _very_ comfortable wearing them. They would often switch them on in the middle of an adventure or an arena match just to give themselves an extra challenge, or show off a little more skin.

The Gullwings quickly became accustomed to the way the Avians operated. Naturally, they were given no other choice. Cagemasters were responsible for the Gullwings' rigorous daily upkeep and physical conditioning. Each Gullwing generally had her own Cagemaster assigned to her, with several other Cagemasters to closely watch her and advise her throughout the day.

Beakbreakers were responsible for all of their combat training and making sure they had the knowledge to survive in the wild while they were released on missions. If one of the Gullwings wasn't balancing on her perch or ruffling her tail feathers in rhythm with the other two, a stern-faced Beakbreaker would be sure to make the rest of her day miserable.

Birdwatchers were there to strictly monitor and judge the Gullwings during "Dress Rehearsals," a fancy term for testing their Sphere equipment and making any tweaks—physical, mental, or magical—that were deemed necessary. Several hours of impersonal poking and prodding of a strongly scientific flavor would be considered a more forgiving Dress Rehearsal. One day the Birdwatchers would evaluate them on their weapons proficiency when rapidly swapping between Dresspheres. The next day they might directed onto the laboratory platforms for a surprise assessment completely naked. The Gullwings were pirated goods, and the greedy pirates hoarding them were sure to thoroughly judge every aspect of their value.

Farmers were responsible for meticulously organizing all of the eggs in rookery by breed. They worked in a cryogenic vault in the most secretive, highly-guarded, and hygienic part of the airship. The Gullwings themselves only had hazy, Ether-drowned memories of being brought to that place once when they were first being tamed.

The only assets more valuable than the Gullwings were the future investments they represented. There was some disagreement among the crew over whether the Gullwings should be employed as hens once they grew too old for Sphere Hunting, or if they should skip the biological bloat completely and simply engineer an army of hatchlings from each bird in artificial incubators. They had several years ahead of them to finalize their plans, and all the genetic material they would ever need was safely stored away in the meantime. The ruthless Avians often joked the two requirements for being a Gullwing were being empty in the head and empty in the belly.

Blue Jay, Canary, and Crow were arranged in a circle in the ship's lounge. They were preparing for today's mission: Tracking down a routine Sphere artifact in a dense jungle. Blue Jay and Canary were both seated in reclining chairs with silver rings locked over their wrists and ankles. Blue Jay was dressed her White Mage Garment, while Canary was in her favorite Thief wear. Between them, Crow was hidden away in complete privacy inside a large bronze shell shaped like an upright tanning bed. It was the highest level of conditioning available on the airship.

The three were situated around a low white table with a strange egg-shaped machine sitting in the center. The top the device opened and sent a series of wires spilling toward the two restrained Gullwings. Several small cables with prongs on the end slid across the table toward Blue Jay. A single clear tube made its way toward Canary.

Blue Jay and Canary calmly sat still as the wires went slithering up their bodies. The smaller wires disappeared underneath Blue Jay's hood and attached themselves to the sides of her head. The larger wire disappeared into Canary's belly button.

Blue Jay stretched back into her seat and yawned as she gained new healing knowledge. Canary sighed in comfort as she was injected with temporary speed and agility enhancers, nibbling softly on her lower lip. Crow received all the attention she needed inside of her Garment Presser. They were a great way for a Gullwing to shape up her chest, tighten up her buns, and stack up some sweet DEF bonuses before being sent out of the nest.

The Gullwings often alternated their roles. Sometimes they would all receive a personal brain massage before heading out, or switch to midriff-exposing Dresspheres and get pinched with a little extra navel boost, or turn their Garments off completely and enjoy a pre-mission tanning inside of their crispers. Today was a mix-and-match day.

Two figures were watching the Gullwings relax through the oval lounge window. Leblanc pulled a bag of priceless jewels from the fleshy middle of her open blouse and dropped it in Shinra's palm. It was a generous donation from her syndicate for sorting out her three biggest problems with industrial efficiency, and more than enough to fund the Avians in their clandestine activities.

"See? These girls aren't so obnoxious once you clip their wings," Leblanc chuckled. She placed her long cigarette holder to her lips, purred, and blew off a tiny ring of smoke

"Yes, and they make for fascinating test subjects in my research," Shinra said, his motives anonymously and eerily hidden behind his thick gas mask. "I'm learning more from them each day."

"What could you possibly learn from a set of scrawny bone-headed bimbos who thought they were hot stuff? Girls like them come a dime a dozen around my islands." Leblanc rolled her eyes.

"The effects of a Garment Grid bonding to a living organism, for starters," Shinra muffled through his mask. "The byproduct I've been observing is neither purely linked to the Sphere's technology nor produced completely from the body's natural organic resources. The name I came up with is Mako Energy. If my theories are right, it could be occurring naturally in the planet's ecosystem. We just have to figure out where."

"Huh." Leblanc shrugged. "I thought all the frilly costumes were just supposed to make them look cute."


End file.
